


Open your heart (and the rest will follow)

by DarkAkumaHunter



Series: Reading Between the Lines [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 05:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12810234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAkumaHunter/pseuds/DarkAkumaHunter
Summary: Things begin to settle after their confessions, but that leaves them with several questions. What does this make them? Where do they go from here? And, of course, how do they tell people?





	Open your heart (and the rest will follow)

**Author's Note:**

> Remember when I said I had three one-shots planned for this series? And then I just didn't do anything about it? Well today's the day where I filled in the blanks left from my original outline (it might be kinda choppy and stuff because I already had half the scenes written but there was still in-between bits to do) and actually got my shit together enough to post another part.
> 
> And what's with the titles, you ask? Well, I'm already pants at naming things, but I called the first one something weird and now it's just the theme for this three-shot.
> 
> Also the ending is kind of abrupt but I couldn't think of anything to write after it so... that's just that until part three.

Marinette didn’t remember a lot of what happened on Friday. After her bumbling mess of a not-really confession, Alya had held her hands for a long time, and Marinette mostly remembered feeling fuzzy and warm and a little disbelieving. They hadn’t had much more of a chance to talk things out, since by the time Marinette had recovered her senses enough for useful conversation Alya had needed to head home to babysit.

Saturday was also a no-go. Between Marinette having to help her parents out with the bakery and Ladybug having to make an appearance to deal with a rampaging akuma there just weren’t enough daylight hours to meet up (aside from a brief and slightly awkward encounter as Ladybug), and it wasn’t a conversation she really wanted to have over the phone or by skype.

Sunday, then, was her last chance. Marinette was content in the fact that Alya didn’t now hate her, but everything else felt like it was still up in the air, and she didn’t fancy heading back to school on Monday while wallowing in uncertainty. She didn’t want to assume one thing only to find that Alya had assumed something different.

Marinette sent out her invite via text – two days to process things was great and all but she still wasn’t convinced she was up to hearing Alya’s voice without being able to see her expressions – and Alya sent back an affirmative a little while later accompanied by a bunch of smiley-face emojis. She smiled just looking at the text.

There were a few hours left before the time Marinette had suggested, but she found it relatively easy to fill that time with constructive things (homework mostly) this time around. She was nervous, yes – Marinette wasn’t sure there was _anything_ she did that didn’t come with at least a tiny flutter of nerves – but she wasn’t frantic or panicked. The biggest obstacle had already been overcome, and their friendship was safe and intact; the only thing she didn’t know was where they went from there.

She ended up losing track of time (less because of homework and more due to daydreaming) and only remembered she’d made plans at all when her mother’s voice calling up the stairs jolted her back to the present.

“Honey, Alya’s here. I’m sending her up, okay?”

“Thank you!” Marinette called back, slamming her books shut and shoving them into a semi-neat stack near the edge of her desk, away from her monitor. She ran a nervous hand through her hair – loose for once, as she’d never gotten around to tying it up with everything on her mind – and spun to face the trapdoor, where she could hear Alya coming up the stairs.

A little voice in the back of her mind shrieked that she wasn’t ready for this, that it was a bad idea, but she determinedly stomped it into silence, attempting to be resolute and positive rather than twitchy and pessimistic.

When Alya popped into view Marinette offered up an awkward little wave, but Alya shared none of her reservations. With a boisterous “Hey girl!” she marched across the room and wrapped Marinette up in a tight hug. Marinette melted into the embrace, that all-encompassing warmth spreading through her chest again as she carefully brought her own arms to rest around Alya’s waist.

“So,” Alya began after a minute or two, warm breath brushing Marinette’s ear as she pulled back, “Does this mean you’re up for full sentences now?”

Marinette shoved Alya’s shoulder gently, a little embarrassed, and rolled her eyes, reluctantly extracting herself from Alya’s now loose grasp.

“You _know_ I crumble under emotional pressure, you’ve been watching me do it since the day we met.” Marinette tried to sound annoyed, but she couldn’t help the small smile that refused to leave her lips. They could still banter and nothing was weird and she was happy.

Alya shrugged, unrepentant, before herding Marinette over to the chaise so they could sit.

“Okay. So. I let you do all the talking and the heartfelt confessing and what-not last time, and I didn’t say much of anything, not really. So this is my time.” Alya cleared her throat and turned on the chaise to properly face Marinette. “Mari, you’re my best friend, and I love you. But you’re also _more_ than my best friend, and I am _in love_ with you.” Her serious tone turned a little teasing as she continued. “And here I was thinking I was being an amazing friend by pushing my feelings aside to play Ultimate Wingman. I can’t believe I was sabotaging myself. Seriously, who does that?”

Marinette giggled, face flushed but not embarrassed this time (not much, anyway).

“You can still be Nino’s Ultimate Wingman.”

Alya snorted. “Yeah. If he ever decides to have a crush on someone who isn’t you or me.”

“Well,” Marinette shrugged, “I can’t say I blame him. You are _very_ easy to like.”

She had glanced away, but out of the corner of her eye Marinette saw Alya’s cheeks darken. It was… _nice_ , to know that regardless of how much of a blushing mess Alya could reduce her to, Marinette was apparently capable of the same.

Alya really did like her.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Marinette laughed again, fondly, and turned back towards Alya when her hand rested briefly on her shoulder. She tilted her head in question and Alya’s teasing mood faded away.

“So that’s, you know, exchange of feelings, over and done with. And honestly, you still have no idea how elated and relieved I was to hear you say all that on Friday, but… The real question is: what now?”

Marinette frowned a little at the question, nose scrunching in confusion. She didn’t want to come across too strong, but with Alya’s confirmation that yes, her feelings were a requited thing that she didn’t have to freak out about any longer, surely there was only one path forward?

“We… date? Isn’t that sort of a natural progression thing?” Alya’s expression changed, into something Marinette couldn’t quite decipher, so she quickly switched tracks. “Or, you know. We don’t. If that’s weird. If you don’t want to. I was just, you know, getting ahead of myself. Conclusions to ju- no, jumping to conclusions. Typical Marinette.” She chuckled nervously.

“Is that what _you_ want?”

Marinette blinked, mouth agape. “I, yes?”

Gathering one of Marinette’s hands in her own, Alya’s expression softened into something Marinette could read – affection and concern.

“It’ll cause a big stir. I’m not sure if you realise that. I’m just worried that you’re trying to jump into this without thinking, and then you might get hurt.”

“You won’t hurt me,” Marinette said firmly, in a display of indignant assuredness that surprised Alya. “You won’t hurt me, my parents won’t care, your mother _shouldn’t_ care but might I suppose, you know her better than I do; the only other person to worry about is what, Nino? And maybe Adrien? Chloe’ll kick up a fuss about anything, you know that – I’ve been dealing with her for most of my life, I’m thick-skinned. No one else matters in this. Just us. But maybe I should be asking _you_ this instead?”

“No, no, you’re right. I guess I forgot who I was talking to for a moment there, Miss Class President.”

The tension in the air vanished as Alya grinned apologetically. Marinette punched her lightly in the shoulder with her free hand – it was heartening to witness just how much thought Alya was trying to put in to ensuring Marinette was comfortable with things, but she was seriously underestimating her if Alya really thought she would let a petty thing like disapproving classmates keep her away from something that made her happy.

“You’re not worried though?” Marinette pushed, just to make sure.

“Nah.” Alya shook her head emphatically. “Come Hell or high water Mari, we’re in this thing together. Right?”

“Together. Definitely.”

Marinette was considering whether or not to take her hand back when Alya spoke up again.

“So… girlfriends?”

She flushed a brilliant red, despite having been the one to initially bring it up. Alya laughed, but Marinette couldn’t find it in her to be offended by it. She just grinned through the heat in her cheeks. “Yeah. Girlfriends.”

**oOoOo**

Part of Marinette had expected school on Monday to be… different, somehow. In some big, universally noticeable way. Her mind had never settled on whether that difference would be good or bad. She knew it was irrational though.

That isn’t to say it _wasn’t_ different.

Marinette made more of an attempt than usual to actually wake with her alarm and get to school at a decent time (for her). Alya was sitting by the front steps when she arrived, and they hugged and talked about their weekend and homework, which they’d ignored the day before for more important things like relationship definitions and also maybe movie snuggles.

They walked arm-in-arm to the lockers and no one gave them a second glance, because it was far from the first time it had happened (although perhaps it _was_ a rare moment for Alya wasn’t currently trying to drag Marinette to her doom [aka a dramatic faux-romantic conversation with Adrien before class]).

They sat together in class, because they always sat together in class, and while the lessons carried on as per usual, their recent revelations having – of course – no affect whatsoever on the education system, they were perhaps a little more distracted than usual, sneaking side-glances that lingered whenever they caught each other’s gaze. They only got called out for not paying attention one time, which Marinette was quite proud of, because if this had been a pre-Ladybug situation she would definitely have been entirely unsubtle about the whole thing.

They didn’t tell anyone on Monday, or on Tuesday, or any other day either.

That first week was just for them.

But come the Monday after that, Marinette and Alya dragged a bemused Nino and a cheerful Adrien out for a picnic lunch, where they told their nearest and dearest about the change in their relationship. Nino had been thrown off-balance by it – regardless of his own brief crushes on both girls, he’d been firmly ensnared by Alya’s ‘Marinette’s in love with Adrien’ theory – but he didn’t question it, smiling and offering his congratulations. Adrien seemed wholly unsurprised – there was a mysterious, knowing undertone to his smile that had Marinette wondering if she’d actually been embarrassingly obvious about her crush the whole time.

Without a single akuma to ruin the moment, that day ended on a happy note, and Marinette cherished that warm feeling of love and affection for and from her friends, cementing it in her memory as something to look back on if anyone – likely Chloe – got all up in her face about it.

**oOoOo**

Marinette startled when a knock sounded on the trap door up to the roof. Chat Noir hadn’t come by at all over the last week, and before that she’d only seen him once since she forced all of her relationship woes on him. She hadn’t been worried – she’d still seen him on patrol nights – but she had been curious. If he knew he wouldn’t be able to drop by for an extended period of time he usually let her know beforehand, almost as though he was worried she’d be mad at him for up and disappearing.

Abandoning the fabrics she’d been absentmindedly comparing (inspiration came in waves and today just wasn’t her day), Marinette jumped up to let him in.

Chat landed on her bed with all the grace of an actual cat (show off) and immediately scrambled off, clambering to his feet and spinning to face her. He almost seemed to vibrate, with what Marinette assumed was nervous energy, or maybe excitement? It was sometimes so hard to tell with him.

“What’s got you all riled up Alley-Cat?”

He blinked at her, long and slow, and seemed to physically reign himself in, like he hadn’t realised he was emoting so much, or like he’d remembered he wasn’t supposed to be excited. Marinette eyed him speculatively, head tilted.

“Nothing,” Chat protested, after a silence too long to give sincerity to his response. “How’re things with you?”

Despite his erratic behaviour – though, in the scheme of things, it was no more erratic than normal, just manifesting in a slightly different manner – Marinette allowed the change in topic, but she rolled her eyes in an exaggerated motion to make sure he knew she knew what he was doing. Chat grinned sheepishly back at her and sat down on the edge of her bed.

“Do you want a general run-down of everything since your last visit?” she asked jokingly, arms spread to encompass the entirety of her life. “Or is there something specific you’re looking for here?”

The deer-in-headlights expression on his face before he ducked away was confirmation enough. Marinette laughed.

“I think I know where this is going,” she confessed, settling back down in her desk chair. “Ask away.”

“Okay. I didn’t say anything last time because it was way too soon, but, uh, how’s the Alya situation?”

Marinette smiled softly. Fondness for Chat mingled with fondness for Alya and the irrepressible bubble of warmth that had come to life in her chest when Alya stared her in the eyes and confessed her own affection. Chat grinned back, like it was contagious and he knew exactly what it meant.

“Good. It’s really good. Great even.” She looked up at the superhero on her bed, her partner, her friend. “I really owe you one Chat. For listening when I couldn’t talk to anyone else. For encouraging me. I honestly don’t think I ever would have gone through with it if we hadn’t talked.”

Chat shook his head, grin gentling. “I didn’t tell you anything you didn’t already know.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed. “But sometimes you need someone else to confirm it for you.”

“I’m always happy to be of service Princess.”

They fell into a companionable silence while Marinette tidied up her workspace, Chat’s arrival putting a definite end to what had already been doomed to be a highly unproductive evening. Once that was done, she leaned back in her chair, wondering if it was worth throwing on a movie or something instead.

A hand on her shoulder interrupted her.

Tilting her head back she looked up at Chat. She hadn’t heard him move, but that was sort of just par for the course most days – his occasionally unnervingly quiet steps were one of his most cat-like qualities.

“What’s wrong?”

Chat shrugged and shook his head, hand falling back to his side.

“It’s nothing. It’s just, you seem happier. Less stressed maybe? It seems like Alya’s good for you. I’m glad things worked out.”

Chat Noir was always a genuine and sincere person, but he buried it so often beneath jokes and flirtations that it was always a little surprising when he was entirely serious, when he _let himself_ be open without the protective barrier of humour to hide behind. Marinette was always, without fail, every time, deeply touched at the reminder of how much he trusted her.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

They did end up watching a movie, bundled up together on Marinette’s bed, her laptop resting on their legs. They didn’t talk the rest of the evening, just leaned against each other, comfortable and comforting, and then Chat left as gracefully as he arrived, heading off to wherever he called home.

**oOoOo**

“What’s got you so chipper tonight Kitty?”

Ladybug watched as a soft smile – one she’d only really started to become familiar with recently – lit up Chat’s face. She still felt a little awestruck whenever she saw it, and she found herself musing – not for the first time – that if Alya had never come into the picture, the brotherly affection she felt for the goofy alley cat might one day have morphed into love instead.

“I’m just happy Milady.”

He was staring out over Paris instead of at her, so Ladybug could observe him without notice. She had a feeling she knew what he was talking about, but she’d never really seen how he talked about her – about Marinette – outside of her presence. Though she had never had reason to doubt the sincerity of his friendship, it was heartening to see from an outside perspective that plain old Marinette could linger in his thoughts and lift his spirits even when he was in Ladybug’s presence.

“Did something good happen to you?”

Normally Ladybug might have considered this as treading dangerous waters, as it edged the verge of potentially revealing too much personal information (she was still cagey about sharing information, but Chat had stopped pointing it out if she went there on her own), but it was their first patrol after she told Chat about Alya, so since she was pretty sure she already knew what he was about to say she figured it couldn’t hurt.

“Not to me,” Chat confirmed, side-eyeing her in that smug-yet-pleased way he always did when she ignored her own conversation rules. “To a good friend.”

“Oh?” Ladybug smiled, and moved forward to sit next to Chat, legs dangling over the edge. “It must’ve been something pretty amazing then, for you to still be happy about it.”

Chat didn’t respond straight away. Instead he turned towards her; he was still smiling, but his gaze was hard, considering. Ladybug was thrown. She knew this wasn’t specifically about Marinette – he had never asked permission to hang out with civilians in costume, but he’d also made no secret of the fact that he visited her from time to time (although the visits he admitted to were in no way close to the number of times he’d actually dropped by). She suddenly wondered if she’d misread the situation. Perhaps it was arrogant to assume that this was about her – that Marinette was the only person he could possibly be talking about.

Ladybug went to open her mouth – to apologise, to retract the statement, _something_ – but then the look disappeared. Chat turned back to the city.

“Marinette asked out that girl who runs the _Ladyblog_.”

Ladybug frowned slightly. That was exactly what she’d thought he was going to say. So what was up with that look?

Chat was glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Ladybug blinked. Oh. _Oh._ He was worried about her reaction; that she might disapprove, that he might wreck whatever relationship he’d imagined she and Marinette had. That was… sweet. And a little offensive, but mostly sweet.

“I take it things went well then? I can’t imagine you’d be happy otherwise.”

Chat’s apprehension faded; his gaze turned back to the city.

“It went great. I mean, well, maybe I’m being a tiny bit presumptuous, but they’re dating now, so that _has_ to be great. Right?”

“Of course,” she agreed easily, watching him thoughtfully. Not for the first time Ladybug considered the idea that Chat might be exactly as innocent, romance-wise, as his over-the-top flirting would suggest. “That’s a wonderful thing.”

He nodded decisively. “That’s what I thought. And also, I’d never really noticed until she brought the whole thing up in the first place, but looking at her now, she seems so much lighter. Like a burden has been lifted from her shoulders. I’m sure you know that Marinette’s always very genuine with her emotions, but when I watch her talk I feel like there’s something _more_ to her smiles now. Like she doesn’t have to hold back anymore. I’m really happy for her.”

Ladybug was thankful for Chat’s tendency to ramble – she found herself surprised once more by his startling perceptiveness. She would never accuse him of being particularly oblivious (in anything other than the matter of her identity, in which case she was grateful, and of course potentially [god forbid] guilty of the very same thing), but she was always surprised to remember just how observant he could be. She hadn’t even noticed it herself – had taking his advice truly made such a massive difference to the way she carried herself?

“She’s lucky to have you as a friend,” Ladybug said softly, smothering all her other thoughts to ponder at a more appropriate time.

But Chat shook his head, the smile curving his lips turning just the slightest bit melancholic. “No, I’m the lucky one.”

Ladybug wanted to say something to that, anything, but Chat climbed to his feet, not looking at her, and pointed out that they should probably get started with patrol. She frowned at his back, but didn’t push the issue. He respected her boundaries and she respected his. That was how they worked.

Sometimes she regretted those walls she’d enforced, but there was nothing she could do to take them back. They could only move forwards.


End file.
